Holy Transformation Cogs Batman!

by Merkwerkee

Just what the title says. Might be construed as a crack-fic, though it isn't terribly funny to begin with. Batman is dying, but we can't have that, now can we. Rated T just in case.

7. Chapter 7

I revised the last chapter - didn't feel like making a whole new chapter for that stuff. No more updates until I get another review - or until the story forces its way out of my brain, whichever comes first. I'm such a horrible, demanding person

I own nothing recognizable

---

I looked down. I hadn't done too bad of a job, if I did say so myself. I'd spilled some of the blue stuff, and "applying the phlebotinum" had fried the device, but it appeared to have done its job before it cooked. It was now a useless hunk of metal on the floor, rather like the useless hunk of twisted meat that lay on the table behind me.

I settled back and waited patiently for the rest of the Justice League to stop gaping. They were probably going to demand answers, but I had all the provided materials ready in my hand – I knew nothing beyond the instructions I'd been given, myself, and I didn't want to get stuck up here being interrogated by a pissed-off metahuman or two. The papers would (hopefully) get my safe passage back to the surface and back to my peaceable, normal existence – with any luck, nothing this weird would ever darken my doorstep again.